The Triple R - the Rappahannock Rough Ride
Yesterday the day started early...at least for me. I only had to wake up at 6am to have plenty of time to get dressed in cycling gear, feed the animals, feed myself, and hubby and I could be on the road at 7am to head to the Rappahannock Rough Ride about 40 miles south. Bike was already on the new car rack on the electric car, both charged and ready to go. My cycling neighbor told me she'd be arriving at my driveway at 7am sharp in her car with her bike, ready to follow us into Rappahannock County (Virginia).
Truth is I'm not an early riser. The only reason I woke up, at 6:18 no less from a sound sleep, was because my puppy put his nose on my nose, and barked once. I swear, someone should make an alarm clock of a puppy barking because I was instantly awake and at once glance to the clock shot out of bed like I was on fire. At 7:05 the two cars were on their way south to Washington, Virginia for the 25th annual Rappahannock Rough Ride - a charity ride to support the county's medical help clinics for the poor. The ride offered two divisions- one set of distances on gravel roads, the other set of distances on paved roads up to a meteic century. I'd been on this ride before (paved division) and was over the moon at the gorgeous countryside. It wasn't held last year (no thanks to Covid), and I really had my doubts whether it would be cancelled this year, too.
But the organizers decided to go forward with their ride since the number of riders is manageable (about 200). Thus my neighbor and I were there with the first group - the metrics and half metrics - at the 9am start. Although we were in the half metric, and both our Vados had plenty of juice for that distance, I carried my extra battery with me "just in case". The terrain was (and I'm putting this mildly) "rolling" to the point of ...if the road wasn't going up, it was going down. "Battery draining" was more appropriately the term. Flat going was non-existent. You couldn't find 2 feet on any of the distances to save your soul. So while the extra 8 lbs of e-juice strapped on the back rack of my bike weighed me down a bit more than I wanted, the extra assurance of a spare battery was a weight off my mind. The big plus was that battery fit either bike (both Vados).
Despite the endless 34 miles of rollercoaster roads, the views were...breathtaking.
Each view seemed better than the last, and although I tried not to stop every few feet to snap another shot, sometimes the urge was just too much to resist.
Thankfully, my neighbor didn't mind at all, and found it funny that we two would constantly leapfrog the folks on reg bikes as soon as we got going again. We did look for other ebikes, but at the start I only noticed the recumbents that had e-power. No other bikes in the lineup stood out as an ebike like they had the prior time I'd been on this ride. So imagine my surprise when we passed a Trek lightweight road ebike in a small group and, as they recognized that we were on ebikes, the Trek rider had to point out that she, too, was on an ebike. It was darn right impossible to tell - that bike's frame was a sleek as a gazelle and stunningly beautiful with no battery discernible. Of course, the rider's delighted crowing of "yee-haws" as she cruised effortless up each hill should have been a clue while her companions stood in the pedals and tried to keep up.
Whimsy seemed to find us along the way, in this case a sign out in front of a good-ol-boy style tractor repair place just tickled my funny bone. I mean, a yard sale inside? Couldn't resist stopping.
Even with several stops to take photos, in short order my neighbor and I had moved from the back of the pack towards the front where the riders had spaced out enough for us to be pretty much on our own, chatting as we pedaled through the entrancing countryside where everything was either on top of a hill, or residing in a "hallar" (Appalachian lingo derived from the word "holler" meaning a deep foot of a woodland hill where voices could theoretically echo for miles if one decided to yell into that tree shielded abyss). I had to use my Turbo a lot. I mean that seriously. After a bit we both learned to just blast down the hills in order to have enough genetic energy to slingshot us almost to the top of the next hill before we had to put pedal to the metal. Over and over and over again.
But the views kept coming, and we had a blast.
At one point we rounded a downhill bend where a country store sat, fully decorated for Halloween. I had to use both disk brakes to stop in time to leap off my bike for a shot. The first click caught a passing rider sweep around the bend right in front of me when I took the shot, which I found amusing. The second attempt was cyclist-free and I caught the county store in all its delightfully gory festive attire.
The parking lot was equally decorated with gouls and zombies. Whoever decorated it certainly had a love for the undead, as well as all the trappings of a true Halloween. And it just wouldn't be "the true South" without the store advertising nightcrawlers (worms) in stock for fishing.
Our route took us through several beautiful little towns which have capitalized on their revered lineage for elegantly, yet historically correct, restored buildings geared to the upscale tourist trade before the roads once again guided us back into the expansive countryside, never missing even one hill to surmount and coast down.
The drain on our batteries was intense. Even though my neighbor cut off her power for the endless downhill, she quietly relayed to me, 3 miles from the finish, that her battery light was blinking. "I think I'm running on fumes" she admitted with a touch of worry. We still had a lot of rolling terrain in front of us, and one massive hill to tackle. I assured her we could slap my extra battery on her bike should hers go dead before the end was in sight. She can't walk without a cane, and the hills would be granny gear only, so an unassisted bike was not an option. Knowing we had reserve electrons at the ready, and that I'd insisted she bring her battery lock key along for the ride "just in case", she felt comfortable enough to soldier on and dug deeper into her bravery to coast brake free down the hills to better slingshot up the next incline.
As it was, it proved just enough for her battery to squeeze out its final juice as we crested the last hill and rolled down the main street to the finish. I arrived with 19% of my 606w battery left. She had about 1% of her 500w left. But we'd had an absolute blast, and she said not only did she want to do this ride again next year, but she wanted to invite her Maryland friends to do it as well. She and I both have extra ebikes, so the plan certainly would be doable.
The heat by then was high, the humidity higher, but despite dripping sweat like we'd just stepped out of a pool, we still enjoyed some fun chats with fellow returning cyclists as we loaded our bikes on our racks for the ride home. A stop for lunch at the pre-Revolutionary War (1776) Griffen Tavern just a few miles down the road was a welcome hour spent in the glorous AC among tasteful colonial decor with food that was simply incredible.
The deep fried breaded dill pickles with aioli sauce have now become my all time favorite southern treat. Who would have guessed my Yankee palate would enjoy such a strange deep south appetizer ? Our wonderful waiter (who could actually quote some of the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy best lines - a book I had to explain to my hubby and neighbor who were clueless to this great classic) told me that only about two restaurants on the mid-Atlantic had this delectable recipe and that one had to go deep deep DEEP South to find it on the menu.
And then it was time to head home. I took the longer way back since it was straight highway (our ride down was via switchbacked back country roads), and rolled into my garage with 30% battery left in my electric car. The round trip ended up being over 100 miles.
Both car and bike were plugged in, and I hopped on my other bike to head to my neighbor's to help her take her bike off her rack and then take the rack off. Once back home it was time for hubby and I and the dogs to chill for the rest of the day, and talk about next week's charity ride (The Tour de Conservation Gravel Roads Ride) that will be held in our area on the gravel roads. In January had signed up for a ride thus same weekend being held in Washington DC, but will ditch that because the cyclists attending will be counted in the 6 to 7 thousands. Too much risk with Covid Delta, even being vaccinated, that I'm willing to take. So my neighbor and I will take a well deserved break and get ready for another half metric next Saturday on our own lovely roads. At least the temps will be down into the "fabulous" range. We are even expected to get some frost one of the mornings this week! Time to pull the horse blankets out of storage. Soon enough the weather will be "jackets mandatory".
(Pardon any typos. Have to run right now but will edit later, I promise!)
when taking photographs of downtown from twin peaks, at least one must feature market street dead on axis in the center of the frame! take mental note of the end of that street (little white clock tower), we'll be there in a few hours.
www.businessinsider.com
, Hamburger ,sushi ?
